Who by fire

In the past day, here in Bangkok, almost under our TV eyes, a dozen people lost their lives to the political niceties of the times. Nothing much compared to daily traffic collateral nationwide, come to think of it, except that two of the corpses were stolen from the hospitals to be dragged on stage wrapped in tricolour cloth and proclaimed ‘democracy heroes’ by their siblings to foster further ire and thus further losses in this mindless, trumped-up struggle. This reminded me of a Leonard Cohen’s song of 1974. Here it is.

Who by Fire

Qui par le feu ?

And who by fire, who by water,
who in the sunshine, who in the night time,
who by high ordeal, who by common trial,
who in your merry merry month of May,
who by very slow decay,
and who shall I say is calling?

And who in her lonely slip, who by barbiturate,
who in these realms of love, who by something blunt,
and who by avalanche, who by powder,
who for his greed, who for his hunger,
and who shall I say is calling?

There’s something missing to this song, though, seen from Bangkok thirty-six years later. It goes sort of like this:

And who by M-79, who by a knock on the head,
who by an angry bullet, who out of bravado,
who in the throes of old age, who in infancy,
who by his master’s command, who by accident,
and who shall I say is calling
long-distance from Dubai?